Heartlocked
by TwiAddictAnne
Summary: This was never the part of the plan. He was never a part of the equation. But then again, neither was falling in love. I guess the laws of physics are true … opposites do attract. Damn you, physics!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hi! Enjoy the ride. :)**

FAGE 9: The Last Ride

Title: Heartlocked

Written for: Kouga's Eternal

Written by: TwiAddictAnne

Rating: M

Summary/ Prompt used: 1. I'm not totally useless. I can be used as a bad example.

2\. That little giggle is going to get you fucked.

3\. Yeah I'm selfish because I will never share you with anyone else.

* * *

 **Chapter-1: Prologue**

* * *

 _Senior Prom, 2016_

* * *

You know what they say about train wrecks? The part where you can't look away from it even if it tears your heart? That's what my life is like.

I'd like to say it wasn't always like this, but that would be a lie.

Even when my parents were alive, I was an outsider in the family, never really fitting in.

After my parents were gone, things changed … for the worse. Jeremy, my little brother, decided that he was old enough to not be associated with me. As for our legal guardian, Jenna, she was busy being a brainiac instead of taking care of two orphaned teens.

So what choice did I have other than to live up to the out of control teen that I've been labelled as?-

Of course because the universe hates me, it decided to throw _him_ in my way. I planned on breaking as many rules as possible in my senior year without a care in the world. Then why was it that my heart is breaking as I see him slow dance with someone who is not me?

Of all the rules I planned to break, I didn't count the rules of physics … opposites _do_ attract.

Fuck you, Physics!

* * *

 **A/N: A quick shout out to my dear friend Ashmerlin for doing an outstanding beta job on this story. Love you, sweets.**

 **Share your thoughts with me and leave a review.**

 **Next update will be in half an hour.**

 **Love.**

 **Ann**


	2. Chapter-2: Wild Child

**A/N: I forgot to mention before … no copyright infringement intended. Nothing except the plot is mine.**

* * *

 **Chapter-2: Wild Child**

* * *

 _Two days before Junior Prom, 2015_

* * *

"Elena! Wake up!"

I pull the blankets up over my head to tune out the banshee's voice.

"Damn it, Elena! Wake UP!" The banshee calls out again, this time alarmingly closer than before. "If you miss the school bus, I'm not going to drive you. I'm NOT joking, _Kid_."

That gets on my nerves. Pulling back the covers, I aim a glare at the general direction of the voice. "I'm not a kid, Jenna."

" _Aunt_ Jenna," my legal guardian, heretofore addressed as the banshee, grouches, perching a hand on her hip. "And if you're not a child then stop acting like one."

The words "I'm not _your_ child" almost escapes me—almost. Biting my lip to shut myself up, I decide to keep the glower steadily fixed on her.

Jenna sighs, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. "Elena, please," she says, her tone pleading this time. "I'm really trying here. I know I'm not your mom and I don't want to take her place. But please, can we just cohabit peacefully without these daily arguments? I need to get to my classes too ..."

She stops, and I can imagine the unsaid "... instead of taking care of your sorry ass" hanging in the air around us.

"Please?" she pushes again.

Rolling my eyes because that's the most peaceful I can get at the buttcrack of dawn, I say, "Go to class then. I can manage myself just fine."

Jenna sighs once more before leaving me alone.

I wanna cry out and ask, "Who the hell died and made you such an adult?" at her back. But I don't. Because I know the answer to that. My parents.

* * *

The school day doesn't even get to end properly before I'm staring at my aunt's overly done face outside the principal's office.

"El, why ..."

I interrupt her before she can continue. "It's Elena," I say, the harsheness audible even to me. _Only my mother called me El and no one else._

Jenna nods. "Elena." She sounds frustrated. "Why do you keep doing these things? Neither of your parents were like this."

I feel my face harden. "Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not them."

"You really don't care what people think of you?"

The words burst out of me before I know. "I _know_ what people think of me. Do _you_?"

She narrows her eyes. "Don't start this, Elena."

I tilt my head back to give her a sarcastic smirk. "It's already started, _Aunt_ Jenna. It started the moment you decided to play parent to me. Well guess what? You're not my mom. So don't try acting like you care."

"I've never even thought of taking your mother's place," she whispers, her eyes lowered. "I understand teenage angst, kid. It wasn't too long ago when I was your age, but drugs? Why?"

 _Drugs?_ I gasp inwardly, realizing what Tyler Lockwood must've dropped into my backpack when he pushed past me in the hallways.

Keeping my act of bravado going, I sneer. "Why? Will that be a chink in your armor, O great guardian?"

Her face pales at my words.

"Please tell me you're not doing this to rebel against me."

Rolling my eyes, I say, "Don't think of yourself so highly. I couldn't care less about rebelling against you."

She seems to detect a sense of smartassness in me because she gets sterner. "Tell me where you got the drugs. Who gave them to you?"

Now I could tell her the truth because Lockwood and I aren't really chummy, but why should I give her the satisfaction of getting an answer out of me? So sticking my chin up in defiance, I stay silent.

"For the last time, Elena, tell me who gave the drugs to you!"

I pretend to check my nail polish for a chip instead of answering her which seems to make her self control snap. "Fine. You don't want to tell me? Don't. But you're grounded for a week starting today."

 _As if she can keep me grounded!_ I let out a snort and look at her. "Don't tell me you want me to break the Gilbert family tradition and miss the prom because I'm grounded?"

She huffs. "I already agreed to let Matt take you to the prom, didn't I? So aside from the prom, you'll not be going anywhere but school and home. Understand?"

I roll my eyes. "Don't bother. Matt and I are done. As for being grounded, I'll try to keep my wings from showing."

She frowns. "You broke up with Matt? Why?"

Ignoring her question, I wave a hand. "Bye, Jenna."

Yeah, I'm the wild child … the smartass … the mega bitch. But I'm not anyone's puppet.

* * *

 **A/N: So … thoughts?**

 **Share them with me and leave a review.**

 **Kouga's Eternal, I hope you're enjoying this.**

 **Love.**

 **Ann**


	3. Chapter-3: Prom Bomb

**Chapter-3: Prom Bomb**

* * *

 _Night of Junior Prom, 2015_

* * *

"Elena, babe! What color tie should I wear? I'm guessing blue or pink?"

I feel my eyebrows pull together in irritation at the sound of Matt's voice. Craning my neck slightly to look at him, I ask, "What are you on about, Matt?"

"The prom, babe!" he reminds me with a pout. "Don't tell me you've forgotten about our hot date tonight?"

I shake my head inwardly at how stupid I must've been to date him in the first place and say without even attempting to hide my irritation, "What part of 'Fuck off' did you not get? I told you a week ago … we're done. Finished. Caput."

He looks like he's having a coronary when he sputters. "Y-you can't be serious! I'm the star QB of the football team. Surely you're not turning down a date with the prom king?"

Pretending to think for a moment, I tell him, "You know what, Matty? Maybe I am. You might be the star for others but I'm looking for sunshine. So piss off."

As I watch him swear loudly and stomp away from me, I feel relieved … free.

* * *

"You can't seriously be wearing _that_ to the prom?" Jenna asks when I descend down the stairs to the living room.

I look down at my ensemble of skinny jeans and Linkin Park shirt underneath a black leather jacket and raise an eyebrow at her. "What's wrong with my outfit?"

"Well … it's very ..." She waves a hand to gesture at me. "... _un_ prom."

"Who said I'm going to the prom?"

"If you're not going to the prom, you're not going out at all. You're grounded, remember?" she says.

"Hmm … I'll probably make an appearance at the prom. Will that do?"

Her shoulders slouch. "Elena," she whispers in a pleading tone. "If not for yourself, think what sort of example you're setting for Jeremy."

Grinning, I respond, "See? I'm not completely useless. I can be used as a bad example for Jer." Before she can say anything else, I'm opening the front door and stepping out into the night. "See you tomorrow, Jenna."

"Remember your curfew ..."

I don't wait for her to finish her speech before slamming the door shut behind me. _Ah! Silence. Peaceful silence!_ In search of a night without human interactions, I start making my way to the public library because honestly who spends their prom night cooped up in a library aside from me, the perpetual social recluse?

* * *

It takes only ten minutes in the library to know that I was right … mostly. Sure there was the librarian, Mrs. Goff, and the usual nerdy bunch of students from the nearby Whitmore College. But aside from them, the library is blissfully _empty_.

Grabbing the novel I have been reading for the last week or so—Inferno by Dan Brown, if you're curious—I plop down in my favorite reading space which happens to be a secluded spot between two shelves where nobody bothers me.

I take a look in the general direction of Mrs. Goff before fishing out the little flat-bottomed flask out of my jacket pocket. Ah! Nothing beats a night with Dan Brown and Vodka. Just as I'm about to take my first sip of the goodness my dad left untouched in the cellar, a voice says from somewhere to my left, "I thought food and drinks are not allowed in?"

Stopping midway, I turn to glare at the owner of the voice. Dressed in blue jeans and black button-down, the raven-haired man looks like a devil. A very handsome devil that is. Aiming for a dignified look, I respond, "This is a beverage, not a drink."

He looks thoughtful for a moment before the spark in his eyes turn into a smile. A very sexy smile. Damn! That man is handsome as hell. "Thank God!" he says. Before I can ask what he's on about, he brings a hand forward and holds a very similar looking flask up to show me. "It's good to have a fellow beverage enthusiast join me," he says with a wink.

No matter how hard I try to keep a stern face, a shocked laugh bursts out of me.

"Shh ..." he shushes me as he sits cross-legged next to me. "Don't wake the sleeping beauty," he says, pointing at the direction where Mrs. Goff was dozing off.

"You don't seem like one of the regular crowds," I observe with a chuckle. "Are you from Whitmore?"

He shrugs. "This is my first trip to this fair town of Mystic Falls, but you're right. I am indeed from Whitmore. Physics Major."

I pull a face at his choice of field to study and he smirks. "Is that so bad? What are you aiming for, may I ask?"

I nod. "You may. I'm aiming for English Literature actually."

"I see," he says, his eyes landing on the book clutched in my hand. "Quite contrary to the usual choices for literary classics, wouldn't you say?"

Giving him a scathing look, I pull the book close to my chest and respond, "Just because it's not a sappy romance novel doesn't mean it can't be a classic. Everything Dan writes are classics."

He puts the flask on the floor in front of him and holds his hands up in defeat. "Hey, I'll take anagrams and code breaking over vampire romance any day."

That earns him a satisfactory nod from me. From the general direction of the grandfather clock set at the library entrance, comes the tolling sound declaring that it's now eight o'clock. "We have to move fast if we wanna finish our _beverages_ before Mrs. Goff catches us," I say.

"Wanna share?" he asks, holding up the flask. "Finest bourbon from Salvatore brewery."

"Salvatore?"

He points at himself. "Damon Salvatore."

I hold my hand out to him. "Elena Gilbert."

The moment our hands touch, a shock of shiver runs through my body as if I've been zapped with a livewire. I drop his hand in surprise and look at him stunned. The way he stares at his hand tells me that I wasn't the only one to feel that tingle. _What the fuck was that?_ I wonder.

Pushing the shock away to be pondered at on a later date, I try to keep the easy conversation going. "Bourbon you say?" I ask, raising a brow. "I've never had bourbon."

He brings the flask up to his mouth and wraps his lips around the rim, taking a large swig of the liquid. When he pulls away the flask from his mouth, I can see a little droplet of amber liquid clinging to the corner of his mouth.

"Do you want a taste?" I hear him ask but all I can think of is that droplet of liquid.

I feel myself nod a little in response. "There is more than one ways to taste that," I find myself saying. And then, before I know what I'm doing, I'm leaning forward and licking that drop of alcohol off from his mouth.

The bitter taste of the whisky coupled with the scent and taste which seems to purely be of Damon hits me. It drives me to lick that spot once more. "Fuck!" I hear him whisper softly in my ear and that is all the encouragement I need to move my head to the right and press my lips to his.

A sharp intake of breath escapes him before I feel his hands on my shoulders. In the back of my mind I wonder if he'll push me away but then he keeps moving his hands to my waist and then to my ass. He pulls me to him and I climb like a very willing kitten right onto his lap.

Underneath my ass I can feel him … hard and because I can't help myself, I press down a little, making him groan. The sound of his groan into my mouth as he wraps a hand in my hair makes me moan.

I pull away from him, needing my control back, but he follows me, searching for my mouth again. I place a hand on his chest, intent on keeping him away. But then he opens his mouth and whispers, "Elena," and I'm a goner. Instead of pushing him away, I find myself grabbing a handful of his shirt and pulling his lips to mine once more.

Damon and I spend the time till closing pretty much fused at the lips, making out like hormonal teenagers which I am. When the announcement for closing comes through the speakers, we walk together toward the exit, hand in hand. Just as we step outside of the library, Damon squeezes my hand. "Elena?" he calls softly.

"Hmm?" I respond, unable to be more articulate.

"Will it be okay if we ran into each other again?" he asks with a hint of a smile in his voice.

"I come here every other day to spend the evening with my favorite literary heroes," I tell him.

He reaches out to move a tendril of my hair from my face and then kisses my cheek. "It's a date then," he whispers.

* * *

Late that night, when I'm sneaking into my room thru the window just for the heck of it, I can't help but smile. Drifting off to sleep, my mind is full of Bourbon Boy, aka, Damon Salvatore.

* * *

 **A/N: So … thoughts?**

 **Share them with me and leave a review.**

 **Love.**

 **Ann**


	4. Chapter-4: Newton's Third Law

**Chapter-4: Newton's Third Law**

* * *

According to Newton's Third Law, every action has an equal and opposite reaction. I never believed that because honestly who bothers with such stuff? Apparently, I should. Because despite how drunk I felt on the kisses from a certain man with Bourbon the previous night, I don't expect to be hung over.

However, the morning dawns with one hell of a headache for me. No, not the kiss-induced hangover this time. Instead, it's a booze-induced one. As my alarm clock, aka, Jenna's shrill voice starts yelling for me to get ready for school, I can't help but groan. There should be a hangover day like snow days for post-prom school days.

"Morning, Sleepyhead," Jenna greets me as I descend the stairs to the kitchen. When she notices my attempts at keeping my eyes open, she smiles. "So you did go to the prom. Good girl."

I suppress a snort. _Dream on, Aunt dearest!_

Barely managing to stuff my mouth with a pop tart, I'm scrambling to get dressed and then rushing out the door just to avoid hearing Jenna's disapproving voice anymore.

* * *

Maybe it's the hangover or maybe I've become immune to the constant chattering of students in Mystic Falls High, it takes me some time to realize that I, Elena Gilbert, is now officially a High School senior. It's the sunny disposition of Caroline Forbes that reminds me of it.

"Elena!" she calls as she runs across the schoolyard with a bunch of flyers in her hands. "Hey!" she greets me with a smile.

"Hi, Care," I manage to say, suppressing an eye-roll. "What's up?"

My lack of enthusiasm doesn't deter her. She asks with a grin, "Did you see the notice board yet?" Before I can answer in the negative, she soldiers on, "Doesn't matter. I'm the cheerleading captain this year."

 _Boo-fucking-hoo!_

I attempt at a smile which quite possibly comes off as a grimace before offering her a customary pat on the shoulder. Unlike me, Caroline lived for such recognitions. "That's great, Care. You rule!"

Finally she seems to catch onto my tone of fake enthusiasm because her eyes narrow. "You're not jealous, are you?"

 _Jealous? Why the fuck for?_ I want to ask her. So I do. "Why would I be jealous?"

She looks at me for a second before swishing her ponytail with a shake of her head and holds out a flyer to me. Despite my lack of interest, the headline catches my eyes—"Cheer Tryouts" it says.

"Tryouts?" I ask because as far as I know we have a pretty solid cheering squad already.

Caroline nods. "I want to be fair and give everyone a fighting chance. So _everyone_ has to tryout for a spot on the squad."

The extra emphasis on the word everyone doesn't fail to pique my interest. "Everyone, Care?" I ask, a sudden burst of anger surging through me. "In case you've got amnesia, you and I were both tied for the captain's spot. Why does the Sheriff's daughter get the spot while the newly orphaned girl get to tryout to be on a team she's been a part of since Sophomore Year?"

She holds her hands up in defense. "Hey! You missed a lot when you were busy being super mopey during the last few months. So don't you pin your losing the spot on me. Besides, it's been months since your parents died! Stop playing the orphan card."

That does it. I move forward to grab a handful of her ponytail and yank on it. "My parents fucking DIED! You think I'm being given special treatment for it? I'll give up ANYTHING to get them back!" I know that I'm screaming even though I hate creating a scene in public.

Caroline tries to pull herself free but I tighten my grip … until a pair of arms wrap around me. "Sheesh! You two! You're supposed to be best friends," a voice whispers just loud enough for us to hear.

Bonnie.

I keep my grip on Caroline and turn my head to look at Bonnie Bennett, our other best friend. "Tell her to apologize," I tell her, motioning my head toward Caroline.

"Care?" Bonnie prompts looking at Caroline.

She huffs and then grinds out a half-assed apology. "Sorry"

Just as I loosen my grip, she glares at me and takes a few steps back. "But you have to tryout for the team. Tryouts are on Friday. Be there."

And then she was gone.

 _Damn it! This is turning out to be one clusterfuck of a day!_

* * *

Once we are seated in our first class, instead of our constipated looking physics professor, Mr. Parker, Vice Principal Saltzman walks in. He nods in response to a few surprised greetings before standing at the front of the class. "Kids," he starts. "I have some bad news."

 _Great_ , I think. _Lay it on me. More bad news._

"... I'm sorry to inform you that Mr. Parker, your dear professor, has met with an accident two days back and so he can't be taking your class this year."

Instead of sadness spreading throughout the class, there's a collective whoop from the football team. Only one concerned voice asks, "What happened to him?" And of course that's Caroline Forbes.

Mr. Saltzman looks like he himself is trying to suppress a snicker as he answers her, "He … uh … had a little too much to drink and fainted, hitting himself on the bathroom floor. He hurt his hipbone. So it might be some time before he can come back to us."

"So no physics this year?" A hopeful Tyler Lockwood asks.

Mr. Saltzman smiles this time. "That would've been the case, but lucky for you, I have a friend who has agreed to take up a temporary position at Mystic Falls High. So, kids," he stops to look at the direction of the classroom door and waves a hand before turning back to us. "Please give a warm welcome to Mr. Damon Salvatore, you new physics teacher."

Oh fuck! Fuck fuck fuckity fuck! I pray to any and all deities listening to me that it be just a coincidence that the new teacher has the same name as the man I dry humped the night before. But of course because God loves me so much, my prayers go unheard.

Clad in a charcoal black suit with a midnight blue tie neatly tied around his neck, Damon walks in. "Thanks, Ric," he says to Mr. Saltzman.

He waits till Mr. Saltzman in out of the door before addressing the class. "Good morning, class," he greets, his voice smooth and sharp like a steel sword. "I know most of you must hate physics, but I promise to make it a fun journey ..." His eyes travel all over the class, taking in each face he sees as he speaks.

The moment his eyes fall on me, he stops talking and takes a sharp breath. "Oh!" That's all he manages to say.

Closing my eyes, I curse my luck. Because apparently, Newton's Third Law is right. As much fun as last night was, this is going to be hell.

 _Physics is a bitch!_

* * *

 **A/N: Leave some love.**

 **Love you.**

 **Ann**


	5. Chapter-5: The First Strike

**Chapter-5: The First Strike**

* * *

"Ms. Gilbert, may I see you for a second?"

I clench my eyes shut. So close … almost out of the door … almost. Keeping my eyes closed, I turn around. "Yes, Mr. Salvatore?"

"Close the door please," he instructs, his voice dripping with formality.

For a moment, I wonder if I should try to make a run for it, but the way his eyes narrow at me, I know that he knows where my mind must be.

 _Don't you dare_ , his eyes seem to say. So I don't.

Doing as I'm bid, I take two tentative steps toward him before stopping.

"Speak," he directs quietly.

"Speak?" I repeat ridiculously. " _You_ lied to _me_ , and you want me to speak?"

"Excuse me?" he asks as he stands up from his seat. " _I_ lied to _you_? I'm pretty sure it's the other way around."

"You said you're from Whitmore!"

He tugs his tie loose and glares at me. "I am from Whitmore. I graduated this summer. You said you're in college." His tone sounds harsh and accusing.

"I _never_ said that," I snap at him. "I told you what I want to major in, never said that I'm in college!"

He huffs and drags a hand through his perfectly kempt hair, ruffling it up a little.

"Damon, look ..." I try to start over, hoping we could salvage some of the kinship we felt the other night … and maybe more.

"Mr. Salvatore," he interrupts me, nipping my hope in the bud. "It's Mr. Salvatore for you. I apologize for being unclear with my introduction that night."

"That night ..." I try again, but he treads on again.

"... was a mistake. Let's forget it ever happened, alright?"

With that, he strides toward the door and holds it open; dismissing me from the room and his life.

* * *

Now in the usual scenario, a girl in my predicament would seek out the company of her friends. But here's the thing … it isn't a usual scenario and I am no usual girl.

So instead of hunting down Bonnie or even Caroline, I go and hunt for Vicki Donovan, my ex's pot-headed little sister.

When I corner her in the home room, Vicki looks defiantly at me as she demands, "What do you want, Gilbert? Isn't it enough that you broke my brother's heart?"

I can't help the scoff that escapes me. "His heart?" I snark at her. "I was just arm candy for him, Vic and you know that."

She doesn't speak another word on the subject, letting me know I'm right in my assessment. Instead she asks again, "What do you want?"

"A hit."

"A hit?" she repeats, her eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. " _You_ want a hit?"

I nod. "Yes."

A sneer comes across her face then. "Look at you being all bad girl all of a sudden," she remarks as she reaches into her back pocket to take out a small baggie of white powder. "Fifty bucks a pop."

I don't go into bargain because I'm not in the mood. Instead, I hand her the money and get out of there.

* * *

I'm at my locker when it happens. Just as I'm switching books into my bag, the small pouch Vicki gave me slips from the pocket I had shoved it into and drops on the floor.

"Shit!" I swear as I lean down to reach for it.

However, another set of hands reach it before me. Our hands touch, and the tingle I feel from that one touch it enough to make me cringe.

 _Great! Now he thinks I'm a druggie too!_

"Mr. Salvatore," I manage to mumble without looking at him.

With my eyes trained on my shoes, I catch a glimpse of his fist clenching around the baggie. I wait for him to tell me off like the silly teenager he thinks I am.

And I wait, but the reprimand never comes.

After I've counted a hundred in my head, I dare to chance a glance at him. He's looking right at me. "I expected more," he says so quietly that I'm not sure it was meant for me to hear. But then he thrusts the packet in my still slightly outstretched hand.

The sound of his sigh as he turns around makes me feel shittier than any hour-long lecture Jenna has ever delivered. For the first time since my parents' death, I feel like I've truly disappointed someone.

* * *

 **A/N: Hope everyone is enjoying this little story of mine.**

 **We're halfway through our journey.**

 **Love**

 **Ann**


	6. Chapter-6: A Lesson in Physics

**Chapter-6: A Lesson In Physics**

* * *

Three weeks pass since I've come into the possession of the little baggie containing the life-draining force known as heroine, but I'm yet to break the seal.

I'd like to think it's my inner strength that has caused me to stop from taking that step, but that would be lying. And no matter how much you try, you can't lie to yourself … not really.

Despite my denial to acknowledge the fact, I know that it's happened because of him … Damon Salvatore.

Now before you go and label me as the typical high schooler crushing on her super cute Physics teacher, don't.

First, I'm not a typical high schooler. Because as much as I like to flunk classes, somehow I've still managed to get good grades in my tests so far.

Second, Damon wasn't cute. No, undeniably sexy, handsome, mysteriously interesting … maybe, but calling him cute would be a blasphemy.

And finally, I don't have a crush on him. I'm intrigued by him is more like it. And for some reason, the disappointed look I had seen in his eyes has haunted me in the last few weeks.

As for harboring a secret puppy love for him, I've been trying and failing to drop AP Physics in the last few weeks.

Today, after Vice Principal Saltzman tells me in no subtle terms that I have no choice but to attend the wretched class and make up for the three weeks worth of studies I've lost, I find myself standing at my desk again.

"Nice of you to drop by, Ms. Gilbert," he greets me when he settles in his spot at the front of the class.

I let out a quiet breath I didn't know I was holding and take my seat.

The whole lesson passes with his smooth deep voice tantalizing me to look up, but I resist and silently take notes. It's only when he clears his throat that I chance a glance at him. With a black tie neatly fastened around his neck, his white button-down shirt rolled up at the elbows and his hip resting against the teacher's desk, he looks sinfully delicious.

As if he can feel my eyes assessing him, he looks right at me then. "I wanted to give a little lesson in real life physics if you would indulge me," he says, his eyes still trained on me.

From the front row Caroline oohs and ahhs, no doubt mooning over the hot new piece of meat in the school.

He crosses his arms across his chest, making his biceps bulge just a little bit and asks, "Who here can tell the difference between distance and displacement?"

Bonnie, ever the diligent student, is the first to answer. "Distance is a scalar quantity whereas displacement is a vector one."

He nods encouragingly. "Very good, Ms. Bennett. Anymore takers?"

He waits a few seconds before starting to speak. "In the technical sense, yes, Bonnie is very much correct. How about we put it this way? Distance means how much ground an object has covered during its motion. On the other hand, displacement describes the object's overall change in position along with the direction the change occurs."

When he stops to take a breath, Matt calls out, "Excuse me, Mr. S? Can you say that again? In English please?"

 _Asshole!_

Despite my irritation with my ex-boyfriend, Damon actually smiles. "Certainly, Mr. Donovan. Let me try again and if you're still unclear, I'll be glad to give you extra assignments to help catch the concept?" he lets the last bit hang like a question with his eyebrow raised.

Matt huffs but otherwise remains silent.

"Good," Damon says. "Now then. Let's think you are the objects in question. When you move for the sake of moving without caring about whether you're moving in the right direction or wrong, you're just covering distance." His eyes cut to me, and I know. I know that he's talking about me and how he thinks I'm going in the wrong direction.

"However," he continues, his eyes fixated on me. "Displacement describes your current position in relation to your original position using distance and _direction_ "

That reminds me of his disapproving look yet again and I lower my eyes, unable to meet his eyes anymore.

The bell rings signalling the end of class. He wishes us a good morning, tells us to solve the problems in page 24 and then with one fleeting glance at me, he's out of the door.

* * *

The rest of the day, his words haunt me. Just the fact that he thinks that I'm moving for the sake of moving without direction makes me feel … pathetic.

On my way home from school, I stop at a dumpster. I pull out the small baggie of drugs and stare at it for a long moment.

"I'll show him I have direction." I whisper to myself and throw the bag in the cavernous place, making it disappear amidst trash.

As I continue on my way, both my bag and my heart feels lighter as if a weight has been lifted from it.


	7. Chapter-7: The Second Strike

**Chapter-7: The Second Strike**

* * *

Two days after my revelation, I go to meet coach Young and request a late audition for the cheerleading squad.

"Elena, are you sure, honey?" she asks kindly. "We all understand how hard all of it must have been for you what with your parents' passing and ..."

"Coach," I interrupt her, not needing her sympathy. "I want to do this. I was a part of this team ..."

She shakes her head a little. "But you're out of practice, dear. Maybe you should observe the team sessions for a few days?"

"I know I can do this," I insist. "Please? Just one routine?"

She sighs and nods before turning around and hollering for Caroline. "Forbes! This way."

"No, no, no! Absolutely not!" I hear from a little way away as Caroline pretty much screeches out to make her objections known. "She's out of practice, Coach. We can't risk it with her with the cheer competitions coming up."

After a few moments of fierce whispering between the two, the coach turns and signals me to come forward. "One chance, Gilbert," she says, holding up a finger to make her point.

"Thanks, Coach."

Caroline can't hide the sneer from her mouth as she wishes me luck before walking off to stand with the rest of the squad.

I fish out the CD I had brought and put it in the stereo. As the opening strings begin, I start to feel that old tremor of excitement surge through my body. Letting the music fill me up, I forget everyone else around me and start to move.

When the music stops, so do my feet. I open my eyes to find the auditorium silent and every pair of eyes fixated on me. Just as I start to second guess myself, Coach Young starts to clap. "Elena, honey," she says with a huge grin on her face. "That really was something."

I feel my lips twitch in a small smile as I ask her, "Am I in?"

She walks forward to drape an arm around me. "In? Honey, you're reinstated as the team captain. If we can do _that_ routine in the competition, the title is ours. I'm sure of it."

"What?" Caroline screeches. "Y-yo-you can't do that," she spatturs.

"Actually I can," the coach says and then turns to greet the squad in general. "Team, your captain is back."

Amidst deafening cheers, I see a shadow move away from the doorway, his lips pulled up in a smile.

* * *

A few days later, I find myself back in the library, this time with a diary instead of one of Dan's masterpieces.

Letting my pen loose on the blank paper, I feel like I can breathe after a long time. I write any thought that comes to mind. From my parents' death to my getting back on the cheerleading squad … from meeting Damon to that disapproving look of his. And yes, despite my intention of never thinking of it again, his kisses do make an appearance in my diary.

As I write about the way he had touched me that night, the way he made me feel … makes me blush even now. Unknowingly, my finger lifts up to my mouth to trace the lip he had sucked on, remembering the taste of him.

"What wouldn't I give to know what's going on in your mind right now."

The sudden sound of a voice … _his_ voice … jolts me out of my reverie. "Damon!" I gasp, scrambling up to my feet. "Mr. Salvatore, I mean."

There he stands with his back pressed against a bookshelf and his hands deep in the pockets of his dark wash jeans with a twinkle in his eyes. "Damon is fine," he says as he moves to stand in front of me.

"What are you doing here?"

He pretends to think for a moment before answering, "As far as I know, this is a public establishment. And I, as a commoner in the fair town of Mystic Falls, am as welcome here as are you."

A surprised giggle escapes my lips at his grandiloquent words. "I didn't realize you cared about poetry," I exclaim with a touch of sarcasm.

His eyes narrow. "You're lucky we're in public," he says darkly. And suddenly the air around us is charged with tension and something so foreign that I can't name it.

My words come out as a breathy whisper. "What do you mean?"

He takes a step closer to me, making me step back until I'm pressed against the reading table behind me. "You're lucky we're in public because," he says, taking yet another step closer until I can feel his breath on my lips. "... if we were alone, that facetious little giggle would have gotten you fucked."

I swallow thickly, unable to think … unable to speak or do anything other than feel his chest brushing mine. Needing to get my breath under control, I put a hand on his chest and give a little push, making him step back.

My breath comes out in deep pants as I suddenly feel like I've just ran a marathon. Slowing my breathing to the point that i can speak coherently, I shoot a glare at him. "What the fuck? What is wrong with you?" I demand, suddenly angry at him for affecting me this way and at myself for being affected in the first place. "You can't just act like I'm a little girl and your biggest mistake at school and go around speaking of fucking me when we're alone! I'm not your plaything, Damon."

I put a pause in my rant to take a deep breath, and apparently, that's all he needs. He covers the distance between us and takes my face in his hands. "What're you …?"

My unspoken question is answered when he presses his lips to mine. For one long moment, he simply keeps out lips pressed as if waiting for me to reject him, when I don't, he wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me flush against his body, deepening our kiss.

Despite everything I just spewed out at him, I kiss him back like the hopeless idiot that I am. Trying to assess his reaction to me, I push my tongue into his mouth and he groans. _So you're not unaffected by me, Mr. Salvatore!_ When I tug on the hair at the nape of his neck, he nips at my lips, making me laugh into our kiss. I feel his lips turn upwards against mine.

Slowly as if he doesn't want to end this, he pulls away from me. For a moment we just breath in the air trapped between us. Then he leans down to rest his forehead on mine, his eyes staring into mine as if he can see my soul. "You're not a mistake," he whispers.

"I'm not?" I'm shocked at the sudden revelation.

He shakes his head. "No, you're exactly everything I've ever dreamt of. But ..."

I place a finger on his lips. "I don't like but."

He kisses the tip of my finger and then the tip of my nose before saying, "The time is against us, baby. The world isn't ready for us … yet."

"I like the sound of yet."

At my words he smiles before kissing me again, making me feel something I haven't felt in a long time … loved.


	8. Chapter-8: A Race Against Time

**Chapter-8: A Race Against Time**

* * *

 _Several Months Later … Senior Prom, 2016_

* * *

Just as quickly as they had gone up in flames after my parents death, things fall in place in the months following my reinstatement as the cheerleading captain.

I start hanging out with Bonnie again, ditching my loner status and together we hunt down her ancestors' histories as Salem witches.

When we made it to regionals, Caroline stops being a prick and dedicates herself in learning my routine so we can win; and we do. She even falls for Tyler Lockwood, giving him the push he needed to abandon his foray into becoming a stoner.

Things at home get better too once I stop pushing the boundaries. Jenna, finally not having to deal with a troubled teen, i.e., my charming self, ends up finding herself a date at Jeremy's parent-teacher conference … with none other than Vice Principal Saltzman!

Speaking of Jer, my little brother, after finding out that his role model of bad behaviour, a.k.a. Me, has mended her ways, turns to the arts. His favorite subject? Coach Young's daughter, April. When I hear that he's been making an effort in gym just to win the blessings of the coach, I can't help but laugh.

As for me? I'm not doing bad. I've made peace with my parents' death because at least I have a little brother to care for and an aunt who really does care for me. And I've got great friends who helped me become who I was once again. And then … there is Damon.

After that make out session months back, we became friends … good friends. He tutored me to help me catch up on the lessons I missed while acting out in my grief. He introduced me to his little brother, Stefan, as his friend and not his student. And we even tried reading The Da Vinci Code together. Amidst it all, I've grown to respect him as a great man, and though I had no intention of doing so, I think I've fallen in love with him.

My thoughts are met with reality when I watch him step into the gym-slash-makeshift-ballroom for the senior prom. He's decked up in a dark suit with a black button-down underneath and with a blonde beauty on his arm.

 _Fuck!_

* * *

Keeping my promise to Jenna, I don't sneak out of the gym after seeing him. No, instead, like a deer caught in headlights, I watch him introduce her to the other faculties. I suffer in silence as I watch him bring punch to her. It's only when I see him hold his hands out to her in a silent invitation for a dance that my control snaps.

Abandoning my hiding post behind the giant balloon wreath, I approach them, my hands clenched in tight fists. "Mr. Salvatore?" I call when I'm standing right behind him, making him come to a sudden stop.

"Elena!" he greets me, turning around to face me. I don't miss the way his hand keeps holding the blonde's.

I don't try to hide my feelings because honestly, I'm tired of doing that. So I glare at their held hands and ask pointedly, "May I have a second … _alone_?"

The blonde's mouth opens as if in recognition and she whispers something in his ear, making me see red. Seething with hurt and anger, I turn and start walking, not looking to see whether he's coming or not.

It's only when I hear the empty classroom door click shut behind me that I know he had followed me. "Hey, I didn't see you earlier," he says, placing his hands on my shoulders.

I slip out of his hands, furious with him and myself for feeling so … broken. "You have a date," I say thickly. _God! Am I going to cry over this man?_

"Yeah, I didn't want to encourage the little love notes from any of the juniors anymore," he admits with a chuckle.

"You're laughing?" I can't help the way my voice shakes with unshed tears. "All of this is just a joke to you, isn't it? _I_ am a joke to you."

He frowns, his hands reaching for me once more. "Elena, what are you saying?"

I push his hands away. "Don't touch me," I hiss. "I'm tired of being your friend, Damon. I … I can't do this anymore."

"Elena ..."

Shaking my head, I hold up a hand to shush him. "And yeah, I know that I'm being selfish right now, but I don't care. I'm selfish because I will never share you with anyone else." As I speak, my throat closes up like there's a lump in the back of it and before I can stop them, teardrops spill out of my stinging eyes.

"Elena … shit!" he swears before moving forward to take me in his arms. When I try to shake him off again, he persists and holds me tighter, bringing me to his chest. "Shh … baby, don't cry," he whispers in my ears as he hugs me to him.

"Easy for you to say ..." I mumble, trying hopelessly to stem my tears.

"Jesus!" he laughs for real this time. "You really can't shut up for a minute, can you?"

"Stop laughing at me!" I try to push him away again … feebly.

He kisses my hair and cups my face in his hands then staring right into my eyes, he says, "All I'm trying to say is that I'm utterly smitten with you, Ms. Gilbert."

My eyebrows pull together in confusion. "Smitten?"

"Smitten, enamored with, in love with ..." he explains.

"You … you love me?" I ask, feeling breathless all of a sudden.

He rolls his eyes and leans down to kiss me. "Totally, completely and utterly in love with you."

Even though I hate to break our little bubble, I have to ask. "But what about the blonde?"

"Rebekah?" he asks, his brows furrowing. "She's my cousin. She's here for moral support."

"For what?"

"For this," he says, clasping my hand in his and then before I can protest, he throws the door open and steps out into the people-packed gym.


	9. Chapter-9: Epilogue

**Chapter-9: Epilogue**

* * *

 _Five Years Later_

* * *

I wake up slowly, stretching like a kitten … a very satisfied kitten.

Turning my head to the side, I frown. His spot is empty with the sheets cold. "Damon?" I call out.

No response comes.

Getting out of bed, I pull on the shirt I pretty much ripped off of his body last night. I can't help smiling at the memory.

As I'm about to walk out of the room, I notice a little piece of paper right next to the bed. " _Congratulations, Graduate. Your breakfast awaits you in the kitchen."_ It reads.

I can't help the smile that radiates across my face as I walk down to the kitchen. When I get there, however, I'm greeted with a plate filled with pancakes and a bottle of chocolate syrup next to it, but no Damon.

Next to the plate lies another piece of paper. Picking it up, I read it aloud. " _Eat up, baby girl. I'm taking you on a treasure hunt. Come find me in the place where you first told me you love me."_

Polishing off my breakfast, I go back to our bedroom to freshen up and get dressed before setting off for my old high school. When I reach the gym where I confessed my love for him in front of the whole student body, I see that Coach Young is there ... alone.

"Elena, honey!" she greets me. "It's good to see you."

"Coach, how have you been?" I give her a quick her, glancing around to see if he's around. _Nope, no such luck._

"Damon tells me you've been offered a position at Whitmore," she tells me, beaming with pride. "It must be great to be working side by side for you kids."

I blush. "I can't wait to begin."

A wistful look comes over her as she sighs. "We miss you. The cheerleaders these days are just not like you. And I'm sure the AP Physics students miss having the legendary Mr. Salvatore's class. I still can't believe he quit the job just like that."

I can't help the smile the memory of brings to my face. "He did it for me. The day he got the job at Whitmore, he could finally be with me."

She nods. "I'm glad you have him. He's a good man."

"I know."

"Speaking of him ..." She brings out a folded piece of paper from her pocket and hands it to me. "I'm supposed to give you this."

Quickly unfolding the paper, I see his handwriting. " _Hope you're not getting tired. I'm waiting for you in the place we met._ "

Taking my leave of the coach, I head to the place we'd met for the first time … the library.

When I get there though, I'm astounded by the emptiness of the place. There's not a soul in sight … not even the librarian. "Damon?" I call out.

"Elena," his voice sounds from behind me.

Turning around, a gasp escapes me. There, surrounded by racks upon racks of books about love and adventure, kneels the man I love with everything I am, holding a ring in his hand.

"I've waited for this moment since the first time you tasted bourbon on my lips," he says, his eyes unwaveringly staring into mine. "Elena Gilbert," he starts before swallowing and taking my hand in his. "The first moment I saw you, I loved you and every moment since then, I've spent falling more in love with you. Time is finally ours for the taking, baby. I can't promise you a lifetime of happiness because that's really not possible. What I promise you, is a lifetime of adventure. Will you marry me and agree to start this new adventure with me?"

I try to blink away the tears steadily falling from my eyes and nod. "Yes."

The way his whole face lights up with that small word from me tells me just how much this man loves me. I pull him up so I can kiss him and I can't help chuckling. "You are terrible at treasure hunts."

"I needed you to win, baby girl," he says cheekily.

"Sure, sure," I tease. "You're lucky I love you."

"Incredibly so."

Without any more words, he pulls me to him, telling me that he loves me too with his lips on mine.

* * *

 **A/N: And that's it.**

 **I sincerely hope Kouga's Eternal enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.**

 **Ashmerlin, girl, I don't know what I'd do without you. Love you to Mars and back.**

 **Love**

 **Ann**


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